Light
by SeaSaltChocolate
Summary: Whats it like for the others? The other things in the cages at the School? The ones that didnt escape? Find out what its like for one girl... Oneshot, rated T just in case.


**A/N: This is my first oneshot, so don't be mean. Its kinda long, but I don't feel like making it multiple chapters so whatever. As always, I'm sure you've heard it a million times, reviews! They are not joking when they say "a review is the best gift a writer can get" or something like that. So! Please! Click the little button! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride, but that's kind of pointless to say because she's not even IN this story. None of the Flock are. So, I pretty much own this whole thing. Except the whole cages idea. But whatever.**

Light. Dark. Light again. Dark again. Light. Then voices

"Watch its eyes." It's dark again. Movement. What's moving? It's me.

Me. The word sounds foreign, even in my head. My head. I have a head! Slowly, I become aware of everything around me.

I can hear the voices; I have ears. I can see the light; I have eyes – or at least to some extent.

Then I start to feel something, up near my head. No, it's in my head. A feeling comes over me, strange and unfamiliar. I am not used to feelings. My arm begins to rise (I can move! Whenever I want to!) And I hear loud gusts of air being pulled in, presumably by the same beings that had been speaking earlier. Gasps. The word pops into my head uninvited. My attention returns to the problem at hand – what is this odd pounding, this peculiar feeling? It makes my back hunch and my eyes squint as it increases.

"It registers pain…"

I am beginning to realize that this thing, this abnormal throbbing, this – this pain, it's not a good thing. I don't like it, it makes me feel things my body rejects. My body. I have a body? Through the pain, I manage to gain control, bit by bit, of the rest of what is now me. I have feet – something new to me. And legs. They are long and spindly – how am I supposed to move with them?

My inventory continues. There is a space, an empty stretch of nothing but skin and bones, all the way up to my new arms. Then, my head, where the pain, the unusual pounding is. It is doing something to my eyes now.

Am I… dying? I have heard the term spoken in hushed voices before - but when is before? And what is dying? I do not know, but I am sure that is what I am doing. It makes the pain even worse, and my eyes are becoming smaller. My legs are not working anymore, not holding up my long, thin body, and I am crumpling.

The voices rise.

And then I die.

When I open my eyes, I am amazed. I think, I have eyes? And then I remember.

Remember the light. The voices. The pain. The body. And – the dying.

I feel the top part of my head crumple; the skin squishes together in an odd way. If I died, how am I sitting here, thinking, feeling? Am I the same odd creature? Without moving, I know I am.

Everything feels wrong; too long and thin and spindly. Too frail. Will this be my permanent body? Is this who I am now? Slowly, it comes to me that this is who I am, for now at least. For the first time since - what did I do? I went away, and came back. It was dark for a while, and now it's light. So I must have left. And so for the first time since coming back I attempt to move.

Nothing happens. The world stays still. What world?

I realize that I cannot see. It takes a long time to get used to all these feelings, these senses that can be used all at the same time. It is new to me. Again, I try to move my funny self.

Shockingly, it works. I am not laying anymore, but sitting – sitting on something remarkably soft and bendy. Now what? What do I do next?

I am scared, all of a sudden. I am in a body I don't know, in a place I don't know – everything around me is unfamiliar and I don't know if I can even trust my own self. I don't know how long I sit there, petrified by all the dark unknown, before a sensible thought penetrates. It says, "You already died and came back. What can the blackness do to you?" and I realize that it's true. Actually, I realize, darkness is welcome. It's comforting. It's familiar. So why do I feel so scared?

It dawns on me that it is me, it's my new weird thoughts and – and feelings, that make me so unhappy. Is this like pain? Is it something that is simply expected of my body? Oh, I do not like this. All these new feelings and everything – it's so, so, frightening. Where did that come from? I don't know; but I'm sure that that's the word for it. I decide not to dwell on it any longer, and that's when it comes to me: I cannot, it is impossible for me to shut off my thoughts. There is no swirl into nothingness; I cannot leave. I am stuck in this new body with these new thoughts and new feeling and new words-!

And I feel sick, horrible, a nasty feeling is coming somewhere below my head, and my mouth opens (my new mouth! That I've never even used before!) And something comes out, only there isn't anything in me to come out so a hot, burning liquid sears me and splatters onto the floor. I retch and gag. This goes on for a while, I do not know how long, until I am sure there is hardly anything left of my frail body but skin and bones.

I lay, exhausted and miserable, feeling more than I ever thought capable to feel at once, and feel moisture gather in my eyes. I don't even have the strength to think about it; it pours down my cheeks and into my still-sour mouth, leaving a slightly salty taste. It feels oddly good, like I'm letting all my horrible new thoughts and realizations leave through this salty tasting water.

And once again I feel myself slip away into the darkness.

I have to get away. That's the first thought that pops into my head when I come back. Whoever did this, they have to be here. Somewhere. And I don't doubt that they will do more to me. Worse things, horrible things, things that make me even sicker than I was before. So I have to leave.

Sometime during the blackness, my mind must have clicked. Suddenly I know things – the "blackness" is "sleep" and how I how my thoughts form: with my mind.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, feeling a new confidence in my odd body. Once I get myself standing, the rest is easy. Walking around, feeling with my new hands, (which are oddly unreliable) – it all feels natural, easy, effortless, and I get the weird feeling that I've done this before. But of course, that's impossible. Halfway round my hands bump into something and I pull back, recoil, and my mouth opens and for the first time my vocal chords are put to test. A sharp, ragged scream fills the air around me and pierces into me causing me to double over in fear and pain. And then – it stops.

I'm panting, gasping, choking for breath, and my throat feels sore and raw.

I'm wary to touch the spot again – will it bring the same reaction? Will this body react the same way? A tentative hand reaches out-.

It's okay. It's a circle, smooth and round and cool in my hand. Is this the way out? So far, I've only touched two things: the bed and the wall. Will this new object free me? Carefully, I push it. Nothing happens. I switch tact and pull instead. Again, nothing. Is this how everything in this world is? So confusing?

I want yell in anger, even though I know it won't do anything. It must be one of those odd emotions that comes with the body. A sound escapes my mouth, high, and short, and the word giggle pops into my head.

This body is so stupid. Whoever made it clearly didn't know what they were doing. It tries to purge itself when it's empty, it makes water stream from the eyes when the throat already aches, it makes the voice want to shout when it won't solve anything….

Really, what were they thinking? I feel my body relax, and I feel, weirdly, much better than I did before. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to rub my nose as the air tickles it. Then, calmly, I reach out and grasp the round object. Push didn't work. Pull didn't work. I am left with one option, other than pulling the thing directly off, (which I'm not sure this weak body is capable of).

Turn. It works. It works! I'm frozen with shock.

Yellow and white stream in through the opening, a small sliver between the wall the handle was attached to and a separate one. For the first time, I can see my body. Slim white fingers grasp the knob, pale feet poke out from the long piece of cloth that covers me. My mouth opens and I gape. I'm so colorless! And I knew, could tell by the way I moved and the slight way the bed sagged, that I was thin but this-!

This was unbelievable. How had these legs, practically naught but skin and bones, been able to hold up this whole body? Dumbfounded, I let go of the handle. The wall starts swings shut. No! Desperate for the light that I had seen, I reach out and blindly grope for the knob. My fingers connect and I jerk it toward me. Light floods the room; I feel myself exhale once loudly. Still grasping the doorknob, I slowly turn back toward the room I had been held in.

I reel in shock. Bars cover the wall on the side I haven't touched. Hard, and black and shiny, they let in no light due to the heavy black curtain on the opposite side. I feel logic start to kick in, and am relieved that this mind works so quickly.

Why? That's the question that's been nagging me. Why put bars if they think I'm not even intelligent enough to open a door? For the first time, I turn back toward the open doorway. Will there be another room? A hallway? Or even – do I dare hope? – open air?

I look through the doorway.

I hear my breath quicken, and I feel dizzy. My eyes start to shrink as they did when I woke up for the first time in this body.

There is no room. No hallway. No escape to freedom. It's an empty closet. I am staring at a wall, another wall. Something small dangles from the ceiling, emitting a faint yellow light, and I realize, with growing horror, that it is a trick. All a trick. Simply a test to see what I can do, how far I can get, how developed this body's new personality is.

I feel myself teeter, wobble slightly, and squeeze my eyes shut. This can't be true. It can't. But I know it is. It seems like such an insignificant thing to worry about; hardly even worth thinking about.

They tricked me; so what? It was only a doorway to what could have been freedom. I had let my hopes get far too high, and now to have them dashed so abruptly-.

It seems cruel, doesn't it?

And then – I hear things. At first they're quiet, faint, just background noises. But then they grow. Louder, and louder.

"Let me go…."

"Help… help…. Please… humans coming… "

"Girl, girl, new girl, ugly, so ugly, leave girl ugly leave leave leave…"

I start to shake. Are they talking about me? Am I a – a – girl?

Whatever that is, I'm sure now that it's what I am. And—where are the voices coming from?

"Ssssssss…. Help me…. Ssssomeone….."

I put my hands over my ears, crouching on the cold floor. The voices don't stop.

"Ugly, ugly, why here? Why girl why here leave leave…."

I ball up and feel the water come to my eyes again, but this time no relief follows. My forehead touches the cold cement and I push my knees up over my ears.

"Help meee….."

I lay like that, curled up in a ball, trying to block out the voices, for a long time. I begin to grow numb; the voices become blurred. Intent on not having them come back, I don't move. An odd sound comes, squeaky, but it too is blurred and I ignore it. And then a high, keening sound pierces the air and my head feels like its splitting in two.

"HEEEEEEELP MEE…. _KYAAAA! SOMEONE….._"

And then –

"Take him. We'll use his brain. Throw the body."

The screams stop, the squeaks leave, and I'm left with the voices, minus one. I'm shaking, and my arms feel as though they are about to fall off. Scared what this body will do if left like this – curled up in a hard ball – I unfold, and stand up and stretch. My bones pop, and I wince in fear. But nothing happens. I attempt for a moment to locate the source of the voices, but they seem to be all around me, boring onto my head. I turn toward the curtain, the direction of the squeaks.

Slowly, I walk forward. My hands fit through the bars, and I can feel the rough material that the curtain is made of. The voices increase.

"It's coming, help, help, help, it's taking me, it gonna take me, help-!"

"Ugly girl, ugly ugly ugly, coming, hear her, human, ugly…"

I squeeze my eyes shut and pull. The curtains are heavy; they don't move easily. But when they come apart, I scream. I hear the sound I did when I first touched the doorknob, only multiplied by a thousand.

It drowns out the voices and I think my ears split. The curtain slips from my limp grasp and swings shut. My legs give way and I hit the ground, but don't feel the pain. My throat feels raw from screaming but I can't stop. Can't stop. Can't stop. And then – I black out.

When I wake up I'm in the tube again. The same one that I first woke up in. And there are voices again. Not voices like the ones in the cell, crude and pleading and relentless. These are sharper, quieter, with something else I couldn't place. The first time I woke up I didn't understand – I spent my first few minutes trying to figure out where I was, what I was, who I was.

But now I have a better control on myself, on my senses. I see the beings talking, humans, like I am, and am shocked by how similar they look. Their skin is pale, like mine, but these new humans are wearing open white coats, not a gown like I am. And their hair is short, dark, while mine is longer. And their faces are all hideous. Do I look like that? Am I that pointy, calculating, cruel? I start to listen to what they are saying. "It's a failure."

They're talking about me. I'm a failure. What was I meant for? Why did they make me, put me here in this body?

"Agreed. Shall we terminate?"

"Save the body; it's only fairly damaged. Remove the mind and destroy it – it's useless."

Me. They're going to pull out my mind and destroy me, while this body, that I've hardly even used, is safe. Why should they get to keep the body? I wonder. They don't deserve it. And so I decide to destroy it.

The tube I'm in is long, and made of made of thick glass top to bottom. The only thing not smooth and gleaming is the metal at the rims; and it is this that I decide as my weapon. Long cords lead to big machines that have many white-coats gathered round. They are still talking, but to me, it is meaningless babble. They don't keep the mind, they don't get the body.

A light turns on above me and I begin to hear a small hum. I know I don't have much time. I sit down and a murmur ripples through the white-coats. Not wasting any time, I reach for the strip of metal at the bottom.

I hear a shout.

I ignore it.

The metal will not come loose. I hadn't quite expected it to, but still I sit and stare at it, willing it to come loose. The image of rows and rows of cages fills my mind, each stacked up on top of each other. I pull harder at the metal; the voices increase in volume.

I remember the mutilated shape of the beings inside them, and their attempts to move. The metal grows warm in my hand. I recall the screams, no longer in my head, but coming from the hideous monsters in each crate.

And then the metal breaks. My head is spinning; I feel the sour liquid rise to my throat again. There are shouts everywhere from the white-coats, lights flashing and machines humming. I hold the metal in my hand for a split second, and then the cage that had been directly across from mine comes into my head, it was a girl, like me, and I imagined this body looked a great deal like hers. She had long white hair and her mouth had been open in a silent scream. Her eyes were shrunken back in her head but seemed huge as she shook with fear. Her hands were stained red; lying uselessly on the floor next to her.

The metal was now burning.

They don't keep the mind, they don't get the body.

I raise the metal. An alarm sounds, but it is too late. I plunge the shard deep, deep, into my body, instinct guiding it. And then…I die.

**Well, the button is right there! I don't care if you just put a smiley face, I just want to know you read it! And liked it or not. So… +in eerie voice+ preeessss the buuutoooon…**

By: SeaSaltChocolate


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